Windows
by multistan
Summary: She meant to go to her window, but somehow she ended up at his. Oneshot.
**I haven't written fan fiction in a while. I also just came up with this idea, and I don't know if it's been used before. (Sorry if it has!)**

 **Disclaimer: I would've made Lucas and Maya date by now if I owned Girl Meets World. (:**

Maya woke with a drop of water on her cheek, and then to the loud sound of thunder outside of her small window. Her eyes felt heavy with sleep, but she blinked them open to another drop of rain on her forehead. Swiping the water droplets off, she glanced up at the cracked ceiling, only to find a small hole in the roof of her room. Her clock read _2:42_ in bright, taunting numbers. Sighing, she threw off the covers of the bed, the warmth and safety of the blankets leaving her cold, and crept to the kitchen. She rummaged through the drawers, shuffling random, mostly used supplies to find duct tape. The apartment was empty, filled with the tapping sounds of rain and the sudden flashes of light, instantly followed by thunder. _Come on,_ she thought. _There has to be some duct tape somewhere in this leaky house._ When she couldn't find a roll, she grunted in defeat and walked back to her bedroom. She made a mental note of buying a roll of duct tape, and followed her usual routine when this happened—take off her bed's blankets, grab a pillow, and sleep on the old musty couch.

The shadows of her legs danced in the bright flashes of light through the window. She threw the pillow and patted it softly against the rim of the couch as she pulled her fuzzy blanket over herself. She tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position, only to switch positions again after a mere few minutes. The cushions from the couch were too springy. Too firm. Too scratchy. Maya gave up—she opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, wondering if her life would always be this way. If she would always have a leaky roof, or sleepless rainy nights, or a mom that was never home. She collected the blankets and pillows, and tried to sleep on the cold floor, but it was worse than the couch. She felt another drop of water on her cheek, only to realize it wasn't coming from a leaky hole in the roof.

Oh, how she hated rain.

Really, she has always been terrified of thunderstorms. She used to cover her ears that would block out the incredibly loud sounds of thunder. She would look for her mom in the night, only to remember that she was out working, or maybe even drinking because her dad never came back. She would run away to Riley's, where their family could keep her safe, but she felt too old and too mature to do that now. Riley always had a place for her, on the left side of her bed, but Maya had always felt bad when she came knocking on Riley's window at four in the morning, interrupting her sleep. She knew it didn't bother Riley much, but it had always bothered her. She didn't like to rely on people, afraid they would leave the next day because of it. Because of her.

Maya sighed in frustration, telling herself she should be grateful she had a home, a mother who worked as hard as she could, and friends that were always there for her. She turned and put her face in her pillow, trying to shut out the drumming of rain that echoed throughout the empty house, trying to shut off the activity in her mind, trying to block out the world. But instead, she lay on the floor, wondering whether she should go to Riley's house. She knew she would be welcome there, but instead of her and Riley sleeping, they would end up talking, like they always did. Contemplating, she walked back to her room, glancing back at the clock, which now read _3:18. Alright fine,_ she thought. _Just this once._ She pried the window open, feeling the bitter air on her skin. She could see the lights of the city, still bustling, and wondered what kind of lives that the people she always saw thriving, lived. Turning her attention back to the window, she took the bug net off of her window, and tossed it to the side of her room. She climbed over the edge, one leg at a time, and landed on the metal exterior stairs, almost slipping on the slick surface.

She didn't know how, or frankly why, she ended up at _his_ window instead.

Maya stood outside Lucas' window, deciding whether she should knock or she should forfeit, and walk back to her apartment. Her hair was drenched, as well as her oversized Beatles t-shirt. Her legs were bare and cold, as she was wearing small shorts underneath. She looked like one of those girls in one of those cheesy movies she hated watching, where the girl stood outside in the rain, waiting to confess her love.

 _Screw it,_ she thought.

Her knuckles tapped lightly against the cold window, but when no one came to the window, she knocked slightly more harsh.

Lucas awoke with confusion, half scared there was a murderer outside his window. He glanced over, realising that the girl standing outside his window wasn't a murderer, but a certain blonde. His heart jumped; with excitement maybe, or with fear she was hurt. Her arms were curled against her chest, shivering. Lucas felt the sudden urge to hold her, to keep her warm.

He opened his window, wiping his sleep filled eyes. "Maya?" he said, gently. "What are you doing here—" he pauses, glancing at the clock, "—at three in the morning?" He moves aside to let her in, and she climbs through his window, glancing around his room. "Am I dreaming?" He asks, closing the window.

Maya smiles. "Are you admitting that you dream of me, Huckleberry?"

"Nope...But I'm definitely awake." He squints in the darkness as her grabs a towel from his closet. "So, why _are_ you here?"

He hands Maya the towel as she wipes her legs. She shrugs, as if knocking on his window at three in the morning is a regular thing to do. Then she scratches her neck, embarrassed, before admitting, "I don't know. My roof is leaky and I can't sleep."

"Oh. Why didn't you go to Riley's?" He asks, curious. He opens a drawer of shirts and grabs one.

"I was, but...I always do. And I always feel bad." She pauses, glancing towards the window. "I can leave if you want—"

"No, it's okay. You can stay. I'll sleep on the floor," he says, tossing her one of his shirts. He points to a door on the left. "The bathroom is that way, assuming you don't want to sleep in a wet shirt." Maya nods, and quickly heads to the bathroom. She looks at herself in the mirror. Her eyes are tired and her hair is disheveled. She peels the wet shirt off of her body, before throwing Lucas' shirt over her. It almost reached her knees and it smelled like him. She wrung out the water in her hair in the sink, and walked back to his room, careful not to make any noise.

As she opened the door, he was already lying on the floor, turned towards the closet. She climbed onto the bed, much comfier then her own, and stared at the back of Lucas' head.

"Hey Huckleberry?" She whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

She closed her eyes, and for once, felt comforted. All she could smell was _him,_ and smiling, she drifted into sleep.


End file.
